Point of View
by JediGurrl
Summary: Post AOTC ficlet/vingettes. If you read, please review


I feel like a kite with a broken rod, fluttering helplessly at the end of a tangled string. Everything I know has been turned upside-down and backwards, has been twisted and has been shattered. I was not there when my Padawan fell. Not physically anyway, but I felt it all the same. I felt Anakin's death just as sharply as I felt Qui-Gon's all those years ago. I don't know if my Padawan purposefully opened himself completely to me at that moment, or if it were merely a reflex. All I know is that there was clinging, searing, molten liquid pain. Then nothing. I had the sudden feeling that I should have known somehow. Should have seen his ever-increasing downward spiral. But I didn't.  
  
I am afraid. Not for myself, I don't think I've ever been truly afraid for my own safety. But I fear for Obi-Wan, and for Sachè who went with him as a decoy. I also fear for my children, though they have yet to be born. The medics say that it's still to early to tell if there really is more than one. But call it a woman's intuition, a mother's intuition even, I know that there are two lives growing inside me. Their souls are older than even I know. It's comforting. And more than anything, I fear for the husband I lost. And I fear the man he became.  
  
I was not chosen as Padmè's decoy because I was the most skilled, or even because I drew the short straw. No, I was chosen as decoy because I am the most expendable. I am not bitter about this. Merely stating facts. I have no family, none to miss me. Easy enough for me to just disappear. I would give my life, and happily, if it would keep Padmè safe. Any of us would, we love her, and she us. That's why we stayed as her guards after she stepped down as Queen. That unfettered, unadulterated, and most of all, unconditional love. She would give her life for any or all of us, and any and all of us would give ours for her. Which is why when Jedi Master Kenobi, Obi-Wan, I have to remember to call him Obi-Wan, came to tell Padmè that her life was very much in danger, I said that I should be the one to go.  
  
I am not the man I once was. Anakin Skywalker perished in flame. I do not know who I am, all I know is that I am no longer him. How is it that I emerged from the molten rock that consumed him? It was the will of the Force. All those things they teach about the Dark Side, that it's easier, stronger, more seductive. None of them are necessarily true. It has the potential to be all of those things, just as the Light Side does. It all depends on who is wielding that power. I do not feel tainted, or corrupted. I feel strong, as if I'm seeing clearly for the first time. What I see is Obi-Wan. He didn't want me to have this. I know what I have to do. I have to find him.  
  
We are being hunted, we always were, but he's beginning to close in. There's only so much longer, so much farther we can run before we'll have to stop and wait for him to come to us. I can hear Qui-Gon's voice, 'always let your enemy come to you, choose your own battle ground' It's still odd to me to think of Anakin as an enemy, but I know that I have to or I won't survive. Sachè knew from the start that this was little better than a suicide mission. But still she volunteered, insisted rather, to be the one to play decoy one last time. I admire her bravery and her devotion. I know she won't go down easily, even against my former Padawan. I don't think that our hunter knows the same things my Padawan did, otherwise he would have caught up with us by now. Unless we're being toyed with.  
  
The medics are sure now, they say that there are two distinct heartbeats beating in unison. I could have told them that. Bail Organa is a great man, as well as a dear friend, and I am glad that I am able to live out my self-imposed exile here on Alderaan. It reminds me of home without being enough like it so as to make me homesick. The people here more than anything are what remind me of home. They're a naturally peaceful people, always ready with a cheerful greeting and a kind word, whether they know the person they're talking to or not. I've built up an odd sort of friendship with the boy who brings my breakfast. His name is Eris, and he calls me Princess. Here Princess is somewhere between a respectful term of endearment, and an honorific, it's not an actual title. Since he's started, Bail and a few others have picked up on it as well. It makes me smile every time.  
  
I'm not going to survive the coming confrontation. I know simply from how concerned Obi-Wan is. I know that if he's that worried for his own life, I don't stand a chance. I am not bitter, merely stating facts. We've stopped running, now we're hiding, waiting. I was never afraid to die while being decoy before, and I'm not afraid to die now. I was always taught that it was pointless, and silly to be afraid of the unknown, I was taught that it was better to be curious. And I am curious. I am not eager to die of course, merely curious. I have the same questions that everyone does; will it hurt? Will I know that I'm dead? Will it be dark? Cold? Like going to sleep? My mind is so full of questions that then the times comes, there will be no room for thought, only action, reaction, instinct.  
  
Obi-Was is either more foolish than I already thought, or I'm being led on a wild bantha chase. Though I doubt that Obi-Wan planned this far ahead. He was always the hypocrite, chastising me for my impulsiveness, while his own ran rampant. I'm remembering pieces of what Anakin knew, sometimes they make sense, most often, they do not. So I put them together where I can. I know where Obi-Wan is, he and the woman he's traveling with. She's one of the handmaidens of the former Queen of Naboo, she's the one that became a senator. I don't know why Obi-Wan is with her. She means nothing to me.  
  
Sachè is dead. She gave herself to save me, so that I could get back to Padmè and her children. They should be due near the same time that I get back to Alderaan. When my former Padawan found us, I was ready. I almost didn't recognize him, his face and arms were a mass of shiny, twisted burn scarring. He remembered at least some of his training. He was always good at dueling, able to switch techniques at a moment's notice, his movements more fluid than most. But where he used to hold his anger back, channel it away, he used it now, furious, white-hot and focused. He was so focused on me that he didn't even notice Sachè until she was literally on top of him, screaming and clawing like a wildcat. She told me to run. So I ran.  
  
It was not an easy birth. But it's over now, all three of us survived it. I didn't have names for them until they were born. After that it was simple, as if it had been clear all along. Luke and Leia. My grandparents, grandfather on my mother's side, and grandmother on my father's. They taught me the most important lessons in my younger years. Leia has stayed with me. Bail's wife was having a child at the same time I was, a few days earlier. It was stillborn. But records are easy enough to change if you know your way around it. So by all official counts, Leia is Bail and Ashlana's daughter, and Luke was the stillborn. Obi-Wan took him, to hide him, keep him safe. I'm not supposed to know where my son is. But I do. There's only one place Obi-Wan would take an infant, only two people he would trust with the protection of the Skywalker heir. He's in the last place that anyone would look. Back where it all began. 


End file.
